My Dumbass
by TheNameIsErronBlack
Summary: After being temporarily afflicted with a strange illness, Pidge reveals something fascinating to Lance about their relationship.


Despite filling the role of class clown with remarkable acumen, Lance took the health and safety of his comrades very, very seriously, especially the often stressed Pidge. So, when Pidge accidentally stumbled upon some sort of nerve gas as the two were trekking through a hazardous environment, he raced over to her prone body. After several seconds of unconsciousness during which Lance seriously believed his heart would give out or tear itself from his chest in the name of self-preservation, his fears were assuaged by a very alive Pidge who had an insatiable case of the giggles and insisted on touching Lance's hair, a goal she remained strident in achieving until they had returned to the rest of the team. Evidently, the poison's only effect was the erosion of Pidge's sense of of maturity. After an injection from some antidote provided by Princess Allura, she would most likely be stable and ready for combat after a well-deserved nap. Being the eternal gentleman of unflinching rectitude that he was, Lance insisted on bringing her somewhere more deserving of her presence than the sterile med-bay, a prospect Pidge was more than happy to indulge. With near-superhuman reflexes, Pidge sprung from her temporary bed to wrap her arms around Lance's neck and her legs around his waist. The act, unbeknownst to them, earned several curious looks from their comrades-in-arms.

"Did I say thank you? Cuz I wanted to thank you, so thanks again." She remarked, more so to Lance's neck than to himself as he set her down ever-so-gently.

"Have I mentioned that you're welcome? Because you have been." There was something extremely pleasurable about having Pidge securely fastened to his chest. Her not firing a steady stream of snarky vitriol at him was also a perk of her present state of delirium. A shame her kindness was only a temporary benefit. After making sure she was secure and as comfy as humanly possible, he made his way to the exit, being sure to store their brief rapport in an easy-to-access area of his mind.

"Oh," A barely-audible whisper stopped him in his tracks. "You're leaving?"

Something terrible stirred in the darkest pit of his stomach. "Is everything okay?"

Pidge's eyes darted to and fro once Lance had returned to his original position. "You can stay."

Wisdom informed Lance that this situation was rapidly diverging into the territory of weirdness, but his quick wit had saved his life more than once. "Let me get a chair."

Once again, before he could make his move, Pidge tore herself from her self-imposed fortress to latch on to Lance. The one thing Lance considered in the moments before standing and then plummeting onto Pidge was that, for a five foot teenage girl, she was remarkably strong. Perhaps her present affliction was some sort of Spider-Man affair wherein she gained the proportion strength of an her sarcastic rage.

More important than determining Pidge's strength level was the fact that he was presently on top of her. In an attempt to not completely crush her, and to prevent anything sensitive from slamming into something sensitive, Lance swiftly moved his thighs to each side of Pidge's legs and did the same with his hands near her head. While logic begged him to make a hasty retreat to anywhere else, he was utterly struck by her eyes. He had never really focused in on them, but Pidge's eyes were truly a sight to behold. They matched her hair in color, and there was something remarkably adorable about them when they would go wide and her lips would part every so slightly. Like a true perv, he could do nothing but gawk at them, on top of her.

"Hi," She squeaked out with a tiny, shy smile. Lance had actually played out scenarios very similar to this one many more times than he would ever prefer to admit, and Pidge reacted with abject horror in every one of them. But, for whatever baffling reason, she presently seemed to be enjoying his company. "Can...can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Lance felt no reason to lie to himself: he had considered cuddling with Pidge to be a very, very appetizing concept for quite some time, although the terror and shame associated with the possibility of rejection as well as the consequences that would come from it were utterly petrifying. Now, she was practically inviting him to do just that. Taking a moment to collect his composure with a deep breath, he reassured himself with the knowledge that he was a proven ladies' man, so this would be a walk in the park.

"Sure. Anything for you." He immediately hoped she would forget that.

"Yay." As soon as she received the go-ahead, Pidge needed only a moment to scramble into position. She entangled their legs, wrapped her arms around his neck, and nuzzled her face into his chest.

"I guess this isn't that bad." Lance offhandedly mumbled to himself. It was the truth. Despite her meager stature, she was exceptionally warm, and having her squeeze him with her temporary enhanced strength was probably the closest to divinity that he would ever approach.

She brought her mouth up to his ear. "I have something to tell you," Pidge almost whispered. "It's a secret."

Pidge wasn't exactly one to dispense secrets, least of all to him, but today was the day for all sorts of bizarre occurrences. "I'll swallow a cyanide pill if they capture me."

The joke elicited another laugh. "You're funny. But that's not the secret," That helped his already massive ego. "The secret is...I like you."

Lance was instantly afflicted by a severe case of rigor mortis. There was no way _Pidge_ of all people actually liked _him_ in that respect _._ No such possibility. "I-I, uh, like you, too, Pidge."

Pidge lifted herself up and cupped Lance's cheeks to force eye contact. "No, you're not listening: I _like_ you."

The words hung in the air as Lance could only gaze at his companion, completely dumbfounded. Pidge let out an amused sigh. "I want to be your girlfriend, dumb-dumb."

Lance was almost as nervous as when Pidge had her near-fatal encounter in the cave. She had to be hallucinating him as Shiro. Or Hu-okay, probably Shiro. After all, he was objectively the team leader, a major badass, and objectively good looking. Or Keith. Oh, no. _Anyone_ but Keith. Lance could most likely handle being shot down, but he would prefer to see Pidge get together with a one-eyed squid than Keith.

Still holding a grip on her as if she was made of glass, Lance finally scrounged the courage together to reply. "Pidge, I'm Lance. I don't know if that weird gas did something to your head, but you're talking to Lance. You know, dumbass, moron, brain-cell deficient Lance." Those were only a sampling of the many colorful nicknames she had attributed to him.

"Yes! I know you're Lance! You care about me and what I have to say, you always know how to make me laugh even if I have to hold it in to look smart, you're an awesome pilot, and you always got my back."

The sudden barrage of compliments made his face burn. "Thank you."

She gave a sly smile. "And I just plain ol' think you're hot. Like, when you were all on top of me a few minutes ago, before you ruined everything, my lady parts were all like: Oh, yeah," Her tone of voice was a rough approximation of what a sultry, southern American accent sounded. He could only speculate as to why she chose such a tone. "There's a cute guy here."

Though Lance never missed an opportunity to extol the virtues of his physical appearance, the comments had mostly been platitudes. It was certainly comforting that the one person whose opinion he actually cared about approved. It didn't stop him from turning away from her scrutiny, because now there was presently a parade going on his stomach. He couldn't even proffer a snarky rejoinder about how he already knew she had the hots for him. He was still processing the idea that Pidge actually found him attractive. It was indeed a surreal succession of words.

"Just being here with you gives me this warm feeling inside. In my boobs," He was a bit taken aback by that. "No, my chest. And I just want that warm feeling all the time. And I think it would be there if we were more than friends."

"That's uh-that's-"

"Shhhhhh," His attempt at a comeback was interrupted by Pidge putting her index finger to his lips. "You don't have to answer the question about us, but will you stay with me? At least until I fall asleep."

Well, he couldn't say no to that. Despite her minuscule stature, hugging Pidge was like wrapping one's arms around a small, squishy radiator. Plus, he could use a quick nap after all the stress of the day. The most important thing would be to stay awake. A lucid Pidge waking up to find herself sleeping next to him would most likely lead to his painful, deserved demise. Easily enough, it seemed as if Pidge was already slipping into dream world.

"I'm not kidding about any of this," She sleepily mumbled. "I always lashed out at you when you would flirt with everyone but me because I was jealous."

* * *

"Oh, _shit."_

Like the true-blue idiot that he was, Lance had evidently failed to immediately leap out of bed once he was certain Pidge was asleep. If he wasn't so utterly terrified and had an audience, he would probably make some sort of snarky quip about his skills in tactical espionage. Step one would be slowly lifting her arms over his neck, easy enough when Pidge was as tiny as she was. With her arms draped past her top half, he pressed his hands against her stomach to gently slide her away from him. Amazingly enough, the whole operation had been successful as Pidge was still in a deep sleep. Without a moment to spare, he lifted himself off the bed and made his escape, giving one last look to make sure Pidge hadn't yet detected his movements. Adverse to his intentions, he lingered for a few more seconds to gaze at her. There was something so pleasant about seeing her sleep, even independent of how adorable she was sleeping. It didn't take a huge leap to reach the conclusion, but Pidge wasn't exactly one to wear her heart on her sleep. Between tracking down her family, her devotion to programming, and all the other nonsense with Voltron, Pidge was always, in one way or another, stressed about something. It was...nice, he decided. Sleeping, peaceful Pidge was a nice sight. If he was a more daring person at present, he would take a picture of her. He would have to settle for a mental one.

"Mmmmff." That cranky grunt followed by a stretching of the arms was his cue to leave.

* * *

"What is going on with you, right now?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean. You and Pidge. Something totally happened between you two."

For all his faults, Hunk wasn't exactly totally devoid of observational skills. "Nothing happened. We're golden."

"First, you act like she doesn't even exist. Then, you make up all sorts of weird excuses to avoid her as much as possible," Hunk's points weren't exactly out of the realm of reality. The three of them had been on a brief expedition, and it was true he had been a bit distant compared to his usual talkative, jovial attitude. "Finally, her hand brushed against you and you yelped like you were in a horror movie."

That was...also true. Although, in Lance's defense, they were on a hostile alien planet. It may have been Pidge accidentally touching him, or it could've been some sort of cyclopean squid out to get him.

"Me and Pidge are totally good. She would have no reason to be pissed at me. I know for a total fact that she happens to like me very muaach." Lance whipped around to provide Hunk with a verbal rebuttal and an accusatory finger, only to find that Pidge had been privy to his declaration. He could only stand there, mouth agape, finger rigid in accusatory bravado.

Hunk took a brief glance at Pidge, then back to Lance. "I'll leave you two to fight to the death."

For several moments after Hunk's departure, the two remained in sullen, painfully awkward silence before Pidge took it upon herself to shatter it.

"Hey." She crossed her arms and planted herself a small distance away from him.

"Uh, hey." He pitifully replied.

Pidge cleared her throat. "So, I'm not really sure what happened the other day, but I'm reasonably certain I told you that I liked you."

Recalling the memory instantly made his cheeks flush. He couldn't stomach bringing forth some sort of response.

"And I know we fell asleep together. For the whole night. I was conscious for your whole stealth routine." There was a hint of a smile on her perfect face.

"W-what? You knew?"

She nodded. "And, the thing is…" She brought her hands together in her quest to search for the right words. "The thing is that I don't want to take it back."

Lance looked at Pidge like she had just revealed her secret affinity for ballet and shopping. "I...I'm not sure I understand."

Now she was struggling to hold back laughter. "What I'm trying to say is that I actually like you. And I can't stand you being all weird with me."

Lance's heartbeat shot into a new stratum. "I assumed you would change your mind once all that weird stuff worked its way of your syst-"

 _Thwack!_

"Yaow!" Pidge smacked him in the back of the head.

"Moron," She almost sounded genuinely frustrated. "You honestly thought I would change my mind about you? If anything, you're even more attractive now that there's only one of you." She appeared to be holding back another smile.

Lance felt like dancing, although experience told him he was a legitimately awful dancer and he preferred to not further embarrass himself. "Do you...do you mind if I kiss you?"

She let out yet another sigh and rolled her eyes. "You're a dumbass, but you're _my_ dumbass."


End file.
